Of Hexes and Drool
by Glades of Grey
Summary: When a joke shop candy is tested on Angelina Johnson, chaos, threats and excessive drool ensue.


JKR owns it all

Miss. Johnson sat slumped against a fraying couch. Quidditch Monthly sprawled across her lap, and a fine trickle of drool seeping from her lolling mouth. Stifling laughter, George approached his victim, no longer a loving boyfriend, but a determined businessman. Levitating his newest joke shop candy into her unsuspecting mouth, he eagerly watched for results.

To his amused horror, the thin line of drool intensified, thickly spewing as it splattered down her face. Shuddering as Angelina stirred, George backed away. Bleary eyed, Angelina groggily felt around her face, prodding the foreign liquid. With a watery shriek she slowly stood, drool making a neat puddle on the floor.

Angelina Johnson was livid.

Dropping his wand in panic, George Weasley ran for his life. He had seen that look in her eyes too many times. Sprinting for the kitchen, he pressed his body weight against the creaking door.

"GEORGE!!!!"

She slammed her body on the other side.

"What. The. Hell. Have. You. Done. To. Me. Now?" She screeched, her voice warbling as though she had water in her mouth. As she forcefully threw herself at the door George prepared his lengthy apology.

Pressing his good ear to the wood, he closed his eyes in concentration. The pressure eased, and all went quiet.

"Angel?" he called tentatively.

Surprised at the sudden silence, George let out a sigh of relief only to be viciously blown to the other side of the room.

Damn magic.

George hurriedly picked himself up from the fallen rubble of spices and cooking pots. Clutching his head to stop the spinning, he feigned surprise.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, we all know you've always had a drooling probl..."

Eyes flashing she glared menacingly, raising her wand as a fresh spout of drool erupted from her mouth.

"I can't get a little nap anywhere without becoming a LAB rabbit can I?" She followed him, weaving and jumping over the chairs George placed to deter her.

"Ang…please hear me out…" He tripped over a fallen frying pan.

"Why should I? Last time I heard you out, two days later I grew another arm." She covered her mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle another surge of spit.

"I remember that one," he recalled wistfully "…sorry, because I can tell you how to reverse it, I swear I can."

"I'm listening." She said quietly.

Fighting laughter, he continued in a rush. " It was supposed to be a candy that produces the similar effects of coffee. It was supposed to get you moving, get you up and energized…not…" He gestured to the trail of saliva she left on the floor.

Biting back the chuckle that so vigilantly wished to escape, George failing attempted to muster up an innocent grin.

Cringing at the sight of another fall of clear liquid, the witch narrowed her eyes.

"Some energizer, what could you have possibly put in it? I could have DIED George, you didn't even test it did you?" She advanced. If only he had his wand...

"N-No, I tried it on a few volunteers, I just wanted to see how it worked on grown women, I would have never gave it to you if there was a chance it could have killed you." He was backed up against the wall, her wand hovering inches from his face.

"Does this answer your question?" she asked sweetly as a drop of drool fell on George's face.

"How _do_ you reverse it Weasley?"

He swallowed, wiping the fluid from his face…"Alas Angelina my sweet, there really is no reverse…you have to wait for it to stop, it won't take more than a half hour. You do look terribly attractive while spewing drool." He added.

"Don't you sweet talk me you prat! A half an hour!? I always knew you would die young."

"Does that mean you'll marry me?" He asked hopefully, attempting to squeeze past his girlfriend.

"You are hardly in the position to be making proposals!" she spewed. "You even try to use me as an experiment again, I will not even hesitate to hex you into the next week. Maybe I'll even call your mother."

With a look of pure horror George shook his head, the very thought of an angry Mrs. Weasley gave him chills.

"You wouldn't" The look in her eyes said otherwise. "Yes Ma'am." He couldn't help but notice her mouth stopped violently seeping liquid; only a small trickle escaped her lips.

"Weasley, you have some cleaning to do." Gesturing to the slippery floor, she turned to the bathroom, no doubt to clean her spit encrusted face.

Staring at the once spotless floor, he couldn't help but laugh. He always knew she had a drooling problem.

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I have no idea where that came from...

Thanks for reading

~Julie


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